


The Time I Did PCP with Nickelback Part II:  The Nickelbackening

by MonsterGirlMelodies



Category: Nickelback (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterGirlMelodies/pseuds/MonsterGirlMelodies
Summary: Nickelback is back in town and he wants to be my best friend.  A sequel to a fic I wrote many years ago.





	The Time I Did PCP with Nickelback Part II:  The Nickelbackening

The sun sets on an empty stretch of forgotten highway. There, amidst the downed sycamores and overturned cars, stands the silhouette of a man outlined in the red fury of evening sun. 

From his back he pulls a guitar, void black and etched in the shimmering gold characters of a language long since forgotten by modern man. 

His arm raises high into the dying light, pausing for a moment as a white moth chances to land upon his outstretched fingertips. He strikes the guitar with a force strong enough to send shockwaves rippling down the road, debris and detritus sent bouncing toward the heavens before crashing back down in a heap. 

A lightning bolt cracks the sky and slams into him, sending outward a sparking crazed collective of electric blue tendrils. 

Suddenly the sun shoots violently skyward, growing redder and larger as it reaches a zenith directly above the man’s head. Birds explode upward from unseen hiding places, threatening to blot out the unnatural daylight. 

A voice tears through the cacophony, holding a commanding tone of total clarity, echoing and building, shattering asphalt, glass and animal alike. In the moments before overwhelming awe and resonating frequencies collaborate to break the rhythm of beating hearts, creatures large and small alike place the beginnings of the chorus of their oblivion. 

“Look at this photograph,” 

Nickelback has returned.

—

It was crazy to see Nickelback again after all this time. Especially since I was doing about ninety miles per hour down the highway, and Nickelback was running twenty over the speed limit alongside my car. 

I waved at Nickelback and he waved back at me and then he reached down and when he came back up he was holding up a baby diaper full of PCP and pointing at it and while winking repeatedly and suggestively. 

‘That wiley Nickelback, still up to all his old tomfoolery.’ I thought with faux-exasperation and like a cutesy scrunched up face and head nod at the camera so you know my expression is fake exasperated and not real exasperated.

I knew it was time to hang out with my best friend Nickelback again when my car careened through a barrier and Nickelback and me were flying through the sky over the city and Nickelback pulled out his guitar and super-slammed out the opening chords of Nickelback’s hit famous song Photograph and that’s when I saw it flashing across the sky in the fireworks flying out of Nickelback’s guitar,

‘THE TIME I DID PCP WITH NICKELBACK PART II:  
THE NICKELBACKENING’

—

Shit was about to get real. 

At least that’s what Nickelback kept shouting in my ear over and over. 

Nickelback was holding me in a reverse bearhug and we were torpedoing toward the dorms of the College School for Adults. What PCP Nickelback couldn’t cram down my throat he was violently inhaling up his own nose so he didn’t have to stop shouting at me while he did it. 

Me and Nickelback must have crashed through like at least eight floors before we stopped RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GIRLS LOCKER ROOM. 

FOR REAL. 

We knew we were in Boob City, USA right away. 

Me and Nickelback immediately got up and started flexing immediately. We must have high fived like four thousand times. At least. All the girls were naked and cheering the entire time. Nickelback saw so many boobs he went Super Saiyan for a minute. Somewhere around the third hour of cheering and flexing and comparing boners, the cops came in the locker room to tell Nickelback to play Photograph. Everyone knew all the lyrics. It was awesome.

Pretty soon the whole building collapsed because word got around town that Nickelback was in the girls locker room and everyone kept trying to get into the building to hear Nickelback play Photograph. Nickelback still probably played it like 34 times. No one got tired of it. 

Most of the people were twitching on the floor in a state of involuntary religious ecstasy from being so close to Nickelback when the building collapsed so it’s not a big deal because that’s how most people say that they want to die anyways according to National Polling. Me and Nickelback were fine though cause of the PCP and also we know you’re supposed to flex hard as fuck in a building collapse to survive and we both flex hard as fuck. 

Me and Nickelback fist bumped back and forth with both hands in the rubble and it looked super cool but after about fifteen minutes of checking to see if anyone was watching we decided to stop. 

Nickelback said he knew about a hard rocking rock and roller rock party happening across town and if anyone knows about a hard rocking rock and roller rock party it’s for sure Nickelback the undisputed by anyone number one hard rocking rock and roller rocker on the entire planet.

Nickelback ran in front of a passing city bus and launched himself like a magnificent dolphin-man through the windshield and then out of the back of the bus and then through the windshield of a bus behind it and I guess that somehow kept happening for a minute despite how unrealistic it sounds cause Nickelback pushed off real hard with his legs which are like pythons or a strong animal that’s more leg shaped than a python. 

Eventually Nickelback got slowed down enough and crashed through one more bus windshield and landed next to the driver. Pretty soon, the bus rolled over to me and the door opened up and fog spilled down the stairs and confetti shot everywhere and when it cleared there was Nickelback. 

Nickelback was covered in glass and when the light hit him just right he looked like disco ball made out of sweaty meat. I swear on a brutal awful prolonged death to all my closest friends and family that it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

Nickelback threw the driver down at my feet and beckoned me onto the bus, taking the now unoccupied seat behind the wheel. 

Someone started to ask to get off the bus but Nickelback turned around and spit right in her stupid mouth. 

Fuck you Sharon. 

“Come with me if you want to rock and roll.” Nickelback said to me from the driver’s seat before explaining to everyone that it was a Terminator reference. The whole bus did Arnold impressions for like an hour and one guy definitely was doing a Tim Allen but it was a good impression so no one minded. 

Nickelback peeled out with the bus and the back end fishtailed it super hard like in The Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift and this one guy who was in the way got swatted into next week.

It was crazy when we saw him again on another crazy adventure that we had next week. 

—

It wasn’t looking like things were gonna end well for the passengers on the bus. Most of them were already unconscious or concussed from all the sick ramps that Nickelback was ramping off of rampantly. Ramps. But now we were about to hit a Hot Wheelz style loop de loop that the taxpayer bailout essentially paid for when Nickelback told me “Better bail out if you want to live,” and then explained that it was a Terminator reference. 

That’s when I saw that the lousy SOCIALIST HITLER GOVERNMENT still hadn’t finished installing the boost pads that you absolutely need to have on a loop de loop track like this if you ever want to get a bus or a semi or like a dinosaur with race car wheels to fully clear the loop.

We bailed a big one.

And we weren’t going to make it. 

I didn’t know what was going to hurt more, the impact onto the concrete below or the loss of faith in the inner workings of our government I was sure to have later on once I started considering all the bureaucratic red tape that had so clearly failed us and every citizen of this fine nation who wants to wang hard around loop de loops. 

The bus, to it’s credit, was hard working and AMERICAN made before it inevitably exploded into a searing inferno about twenty feet behind where me and Nickelback landed. It looked pretty cool but I guess me and Nickelback had probably seen bigger explosions. 

Both our legs had sunk to the knee into the concrete when we landed because we were flexing hard as fuck. We looked at each other, each clearly contemplating the chaotic scene before them. 

Nickelback high fived me so hard he broke my arm in three places.

We set off on foot. Well, I did. Nickelback insisted on riding my shoulders. It was like that Jesus poster with the footprints but maybe the opposite because while I’m not sure that Nickelback is the literal son of God, I know for sure that if he put a gun to my head I’d for sure say that he is. For sure.

Me and Nickelback decided that it was probably time for Nickelback to go incognito because too many people were always going “Hey that’s Nickelback!” and then trying to follow us and get Nickelback to play Photograph. 

Then we did a montage of Nickelback trying on all sorts of different outfits and the camera would cut to me every time and I’d like shrug or shake my head or something like really exaggerated until one of them I gave a knowing nod to like ‘hey that look that you’re wearing is the look that you should get Nickelback.’ 

Walking on Sunshine was playing the whole time. I don’t know where it was coming from.

Nickelback had picked out one of the potted plants from the front entrance of the mall as his incognito outfit that I helped pick out in the montage I just talked about. Nickelback put his legs through holes he made in the bottom and the lip of the clay pot came up to just under his nipples. His face came out through the fern in the pot and he was wearing one of those explorer hats because we both thought that was the fashion look that most suited him and also our needs to be outside as Nickelback without everyone asking you to play Photograph all the time.

Also Nickelback could pull his arms and legs into the pot and it was like he was a turtle and shit fuck if Nickelback doesn’t love turtles I swear to god he is always yelling at the top of his lungs at homeless people about how much he fucking loves turtles.

Nickelback couldn’t believe how normal life was when he was a potted plant instead of Nickelback. I showed him all the normal guy things that I do and no one bothered us because it wasn’t weird and they didn’t know he was actually Nickelback because his disguise was so good.

Eventually Nickelback said that we needed to find some wheels and shades. I agreed wholeheartedly with Nickelback because it’s impossible to say no to Nickelback because he’ll just spit in your mouth before you can get the word out. 

We found a bunch of skater punks skating and Nickelback challenged them to a skate off for their skateboards. They didn’t know he was Nickelback or otherwise they probably would have never accepted.

I’d never even seen half the tricks that Nickelback was doing to shred gnar at the skate off. 

All the skaters had their expectations subverted because before this they all thought that a potted plant couldn’t skateboard but later they realized that they were just prejudiced and Nickelback showed them something ugly inside of themselves. 

They were never mean to potted plants again. 

At one point Nickelback did a kickflip so hard that it broke open a hole in spacetime that we had to staple shut like pretty quick once the screams coming out of it got too annoying for Nickelback to concentrate. 

Nickelback finally locked in his win with a trick called the Nickel Backflip which was so cool that one of the skaters literally pooped their pants and some say is still pooping their pants to this very day. 

One by one all the skaters gave Nickelback their skateboards and Nickelback told them that we needed their shades too and we got the sweetest shades they were like the Blues Brothers ones.

After we shackled all the boards to the bottom of Nickelback’s newly coined Nickelpot we put on our sweet shades and took off to find the biggest hill in town which was right where we were anyway. We didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything interesting or grow at all as people to achieve our goal.

I asked Nickelback if this was the way to the hard rocking rock and roll party and Nickelback said “Where we’re going we don’t need no stinking party,” and I started to ask if that was a Scarface reference but Nickelback spit in my mouth.

While I was fastening myself hard to the back of the Nickelpot like one of those Garfield window things Nickelback was like “Come with me if you want to rock,” and pushed us off down the biggest hill in town and then explained that he was doing a Terminator reference. 

The biggest hill in town was called 8 Mile Hill after the Eminem movie but was actually only six miles long on a good day. The city government got real into the real Slim Shady for a minute and was always bleaching their hair and quoting Slim at meetings and stuff. 

It was the best government this city has ever elected. Over and over and over again.

8 Mile Hill was so steep that when Guinness came to measure how steep it was their steepness measuring machine exploded and they decided to go home and get another one to replace it but then got distracted by the new Nintendo and never came back. 

It was steep as fucking fuck.

We were probably breaking the sound barrier by the time we hit mile three down 8 Mile Hill in the Nickelpot judging by all the car alarms and glass exploding like a hurricane behind us. A lot of people’s ears were bleeding which was terrible because they’d never be able to listen to Nickelback but also maybe a good thing because Nickelback did it to them. Also we were leaving those cool flame strips in the ground behind our wheels cause of how fast we were going. 

Nickelback was hard core doing that thing where your cheeks go all wobbly from air hitting them and must have eaten like a hundred bugs accidentally outside of the ones he kept eating on purpose. 

Right when I felt like my grip on the Nickelpot and my own sanity was at it’s limit Nickelback looked back at me and gave me a thumbs up snapping me back to reality right before leaning back and vomiting up a torrent of living flies into the evolving chaos behind the Nickelpot. I lost count of how many flies there were even though I was definitely trying real hard because Nickelback tends to get irrationally angry and specific about the amounts of things that people remember him doing.

Somewhere around mile four of 8 Mile Hill I saw Nickelback like concentrating real hard and clenching his fists and I was pretty sure he was either pushing out a doo doo brown or trying to go Super Saiyan again.

Imagine my surprise when a pair of moths wings made from pure white light burst from Nickelback’s shoulder blades.

His new Nickelwings kept growing larger and larger until eventually they stretched the entire width of the road. Pretty soon they were so massive that they were cutting their way through all the buildings on either side of 8 Mile Hill. When they’d reached about a hundred feet each Nickelback looked back at me and tipped his sunglasses. Nickelback was like “Come with me if you want to fly,” and then explained that it was a Terminator reference as his Nickelwings started flapping and the Nickelpot took off into the skies above the city gaining supernatural speed and altitude with every passing second.

I clung onto the Nickelpot with my suction cup hands as I looked down on the city below us. Nickelback had produced an acoustic guitar from somewhere within the Nickelpot. The night was still, save the lulling sound of Nickelback’s giant gossamer Nickelwings slowly flapping through the sparse cloud cover, of Nickelback methodically tuning his guitar to the tune that Photograph is in.

It was the most at peace I have ever been with myself that moment. I felt like this was probably what the Buddha felt underneath the tree and then I decided that the Buddha was probably a Nickelback fan because he could see the future and therefore Nickelback and from there it was basically a given.

Slowly, Nickelback looked back at me, his head trimmed by the moonlight streaming in from behind him. Smiling, he took his glasses and flung them down at the city below.

I watched them tumble for an eternity. The moon’s reflection bouncing its way across their glossy surface. Growing smaller and smaller still as they fell away from me.

And then they were gone. 

Looking back up at Nickelback I noticed that his pupils had dilated to fill almost the entirety of the visible space behind his eyelids. I found my breath catch in my throat as I felt some part of myself pulled deep into the dark pools on his face.

Nickelback started speaking to me in every language at once. 

Nickelback’s black hole eyes bore into and past me, past even the me I knew of as myself. I could feel Nickelback connecting with some form of myself disconnected from time. 

Myself as a child searching a dark room only to find eyes staring back at me from some recessed space. 

A sea of future selves feeling a piercing but unseen glare from some shadowy treeline or darkened alleyway as they succeed or fail in a universe of infinite possibilities.

And I could feel myself start sinking inward toward some primordial core of being, even as somewhere, some me, felt my hands slowly losing their grip on the big Garfield plungers tethering me to the Nickelpot. 

And there, infinitely deep down, I saw it, the essence of existence itself, clear as day. So simple.

And suddenly I was Buddha, I was Christ, I was a disconnected soul reuniting with the Godhead. 

And all the while Nickelback’s raving in infinite languages became louder and more manic, becoming a frantic shriek, a madman’s rush of words pouring forth, a deafening roar. 

Somewhere inside me I was aware that I was screaming too, my face now barely an inch from Nickelback’s, my vocal cords being driven to the point of snapping. I could feel my body about to shatter from the pressure as every atom of my being began to vibrate violently. 

I lose my grip and slowly begin falling back away from the ascending Nickelpot. 

Time slows.

Way the fuck down.

Nickelback’s eyes never leave mine as he straps on his guitar. It’s void black and covered in the an incomprehensible gold lettering. In slow motion I watch him twist one last tuning peg in place, sending a wave of light cascading down through the gold etchings of the instrument.

Nickelback’s wings are so big, how did they ever get so big? 

Suddenly the torrent of words erupting from Nickelback’s mouth ceases, his pupils shrink back down, revert to normal but continue shrinking to sharp black points before disappearing entirely. 

The night is so still again. A comet lazily arcs its way down to earth and I fall with it.

“It’s time.” Nickelback says, smiling down at me as I careen through the wispy cloud cover below him.

As Nickelback brings his hand down on the guitar for the opening part of Photograph his Nickelpot explodes off of him like an improvised explosive device. And I don’t have time to register the first pressure wave from the blast before the concussive force rockets up through his wings and shatters them into a billion pieces. 

Nickelback rides naked atop eight skateboards in an arc past the moon surrounded by a swarm of iridescent feathers hovering in the abyss like a starfield. 

His guitar echoes out into the expanse above the city, causing the points of light around him to dance in an eerie rhythm as they defy gravity and logic to become a swirling gyre around the man within their mass. 

And suddenly the feathers race inward and coalesce around Nickelback’s naked form, a brilliant sphere of light masking the man underneath.

As I tumble through the clouds I watch that sphere of light explode outward from Nickelback, carried by a wave of the song Photograph emanating from its core, played as if ripped from a realm of platonic ideals.

I watch a flock of passing birds evaporate as the pure unadulterated Nickelbackening overtakes and consumes them. 

I can’t know if it’s the ground or that sphere of destruction that I’ll meet first, but I no longer care. 

Just as it seems I’m about to make contact with mother earth, I’m finally caught by that bubble of rapidly expanding light. 

Photograph resonates deep down into the vibrating pieces that constitute my existence. I have become Photograph. I have become a part of Nickelback itself. I am at peace before annihilation. 

For a brief moment I watch as the city around me is ripped apart by the forces of Nickelback’s power. 

My world is light and a roar of white noise. 

I am gone. 

I am in my car. 

In a ditch. 

I hang stupidly upside down from my seat looking at a small white flower peeking through my broken windshield. A moth emerges from it’s inner folds. I watch it flutter out through my passenger window and up toward the moon.


End file.
